


I Just Wanna Tell You Something

by Queenie_004



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before (Movies)
Genre: Baking Smut, Cute Boy Gestures, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fake Dating, Flirting, High School, JUST KISS ALREADY, Making Out, Mild Smut, Real Feelings, These Two and Their Contracts, We Like a Girl who Knows What She Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_004/pseuds/Queenie_004
Summary: You don't have to say you love meI just wanna tell you somethingLately you've been on my mind-- Adore You / Harry StylesChapter 1: Lara Jean plans a "Day of Action" to address her feelings for PeterChapter 2: Peter comes to Lara Jean's aid and makes his intentions clearThese are two takes from each character's POV of them admitting and acting on their feelings for their partner in fake dating. They aren't the same universe or connected, but thematically they fit together.
Relationships: Peter Kavinsky/Lara Jean Song-Covey
Comments: 56
Kudos: 198





	1. Kiss Me Already

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much for the warm welcome back! I have quite a backlog (including a sequel I think the core group of you will be _very,_ excited for) so subscribe or stay tuned this summer and I'll keep you well fed 😉😘 -- Q
> 
> Thank you for your patience between postings and for all the sweet inquiries about when I'd be back. I hope everyone is safe and healthy and these can be a fun little distraction for a bit. 
> 
> Like all writers I crave feedback! Please share in the comments if you have any and thank you for reading!
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr! Hit up my inbox!](https://queenie-004.tumblr.com/)

_There is not many chances in life  
I can make this happen with you_ _  
Pulling me close every time  
would you just come and kiss me already  
Just kiss me, just kiss me_

She likes Peter Kavinsky. Really likes him. And she’s attracted to him. _Really_ attracted to him. And she’s done with pretending none of it is real, that they are just playing at romance. Because it doesn’t feel like playing at all when he comes over to her house every weekend and sits so close to her on the couch; or when he holds her hand in the halls and intertwines their fingers instead of just a grasp; it feels very real when he waits for her after her trig class every day so they can go to lunch together and sit across from each other laughing and sharing food.

She rolls out of her bed and heads to the shower. It’s Monday and today is the day she wrote down in her calendar was the “Day of Action.” For weeks she’s felt herself falling for Peter in ways that are starting to threaten her sanity and she’s tired of it. She wants to move on, she wants to be his girlfriend for real and if he doesn’t want that, then she wants this to be over because if her feelings get any more intense, recovering from Peter Kavinsky is going to take longer than she even wants to contemplate.

As she gets dressed her phone vibrates and she knows it’s him without looking at it, because even though he sees her at 7:40AM each weekday, he always texts her when he wakes up. What he says isn’t important – sometimes it’s just a good morning, sometimes he launches right into a weird dream he had or sends a random meme. Occasionally it’s a question, _“donuts?”_ and then she knows he’s going to show up a little earlier so he can take her and Kitty to the bakery on the way to school and treat them to pastries.

This morning it is a selfie and her heart pounds at the delightful surprise of seeing his sweet, sleepy face and beautiful bare shoulders, but more importantly, it is another piece of evidence to the mountain that she’s accrued that he likes her back just as much. Because he wakes up and she’s the person he thinks of – _she’s_ the one he wants to reach out to as one of the first things he does each day. She may not have a lot of experience with boys but she knows this is not common behavior among teenage males, as evidenced by the response of Chris and their friend Maddie when she mentioned his morning texts and was told, that Peter “must have it bad” for her to be that consistently thoughtful.

She decides to make the selfie her new wallpaper because he looks super cute and because she knows that Peter will eat it up and on this Day of Action and she is going to use every tool she can to settle what is happening between them. That’s why she reaches for her burgundy sweater with the v neck ruffled collar that he always lights up when she wears and runs his fingertips over the edges of the ruffle while telling her she looks pretty. And she pulls out her black combat boots he thinks are hot and checks that her long hair is smoothed down over her shoulders just how he likes as she grabs her book bag and sticks her phone inside.

* * *

She can see him grinning outside her classroom as the last minutes of trig wind down. When she meets him outside the door, he whips a sheet of paper out from behind his back, “guess who got a 94 on his Physics exam?” She holds the test still and smiles.

“Nicely done!” she wants to give him a congratulations kiss, but she needs to be patient, the timing for today is planned and she doesn’t want to mess it up with spontaneous kisses in a crowded hallway. “I feel like that deserves some lemon bars.” His eyes widen and he nods.

“You’ll make me lemon bars?”

“Mmm hmm. After school today to celebrate your achievement!”

His face falls, “I have practice.”

“I’ll bring them tomorrow or, you could stop by after practice if you want.” She holds his gaze for a beat longer and his tongue darts out along his bottom lip making it even harder to not kiss him.

“I can probably do that – come by after.”

“Good” she says and can hear her confidence in that one word, “I’ll have a nice warm gooey pan waiting for you, captain.” And then he does something that she is positive is just for her because she’s been watching him carefully in these weeks together and has not seen him do this for anyone else – he scrunches up his nose and his whole face crinkles and he’s so soft when he does it, it kills her every time.

“You’re the best, Covey.”

“I know” she chirps and turns towards the cafeteria and Peter goes with her, throwing his arm over her shoulders and dangling his hand by her neck.

“You look so pretty” he murmurs and she glances down to see his thumb running along the velvet edge of her collar ruffle, “I love this sweater on you.” She smiles smugly to herself because she knows him so well, and she’s about to execute her plan.

* * *

The rest of their table has cleared but they are lingering, Peter taking every apple slice she offers him and crunching loudly as he eats them. “You didn’t say anything about my selfie” he says to her with a twinkle in his eye.

“You’re right, I didn’t.” She says it casually and reaches for her phone as if she’s not going to say anything now either. But she powers it on and turns it to him and his face breaks out into a huge grin.

“Awwww…you’re such a good girlfriend” he says and mimics his pouty expression in the photo.

She takes a deep breath because he’s given her such a good opening to dive right in. “So, I’ve been thinking about our contract” she says and his brow furrows.

“What about it?”

“There’s a term I want to renegotiate.” Her stomach is flipping but she is determined to see this through no matter the consequences.

Now one brow goes up quizzically, “which one?”

“The one you don’t like.” She brushes her hair back from her face and looks him right in the eye, “I think we should start kissing.”

One of the things she finds so alluring about Peter is how expressive he is – and right now is no different as he shifts from curiosity, to surprise, to what could only be termed as glee in a matter of seconds. “You do?”

She nods, “do you agree?”

He sputters out a laugh, “uh, yeah. I thought it was dumb in the first place.”

“Well, you were right.” She keeps her eyes on his and there is an unmistakable hum of tension in the air and it’s delicious. “So, we can kiss.”

Peter sits up in his seat, “I’m on board” he reaches his hand out, “I know you like to shake on these things, make them official” he has a gleam in his eye as she shakes his hand and then releasing it she starts gathering her stuff. She can feel his gaze on her, and he clears his throat, “so, um, when does this new era start?”

She stands up and puts her palms flat on the table to lean towards him in his seat, “how about now?”

 _“Now?”_ his voice cracks and before she can second guess herself or let anything distract her, she presses her lips to his and gives him a kiss. She should be keeping it short and sweet but she’s wanted this for so long she sort of forgets herself and opens her mouth and Peter emits such a tender groan as he brings a hand up to cup her face that she has to forcibly pull herself away from him.

“I can’t be late for Spanish, catch you later, OK?” she manages to say to his completely dazed face, and he nods, his hand still in mid-air where he was touching her face only seconds ago.

She turns away from him and walks out, waiting until she’s out of the cafeteria to break into a relieved giggle, her fingertips tracing over her lips in giddy delight.

* * *

Kitty helped her gather the ingredients for Peter’s lemon bars but soon lost interest and went to her room to go online with her gamer friends. Lara Jean bustles around the kitchen trying to keep herself focused on baking and not on her nerves. She had felt elated after kissing Peter at lunch but as the day went on she started to let doubt creep back in – maybe he didn’t like her the way she liked him, maybe he just liked the idea of kissing her to piss off Gen…she muttered to herself to shut up because really – when was the last time Peter had even mentioned Gen? A month at least – maybe even more. The last two parties they were at she wasn’t even there to witness Peter rubbing his hand over Lara Jean’s back or giving her a piggyback ride on the way to his Jeep, the two of them laughing hysterically. If he wasn’t doing those things to make Gen jealous, why was he doing them?

“Because he _likes_ you” she blurts out loud to herself and the empty kitchen. She grabs at her phone to check it, but it was still just the last message he sent her before school ended, a gif of Cookie Monster and his message, _me love lemon bars!!_ He was at practice and wouldn’t be texting her anyway, so she needed to just finish her baking and start her homework and he’d come by and either gently explain that he didn’t like her that way and they should call it off, or he would grab her and they’d start making out. She knew which option she was pinning all her hopes on.

She’s startled by the doorbell and wiping her fingers on her apron, opens the door to find Peter standing there backlit by the late afternoon sun – his curls damp around his face which is flushed from practice and she swallows a little whimper at how perfect he looks in a snug white henley, broad-shouldered and handsome, smiling softly at her like some sort of romantic hero from the cover of one of her books.

“You’re early – is practice over?” she steps back to let him in, and he brushes past her and she squeezes her eyes shut because he smells like soap and grass some sort of warm spice and it makes her a little crazy.

“Uh…my practice is over. I was having trouble concentrating…because of the lemon bars…” he trails off and they look at each other for an extra beat.

“The lemon bars” she repeats and he just nods, “right” and, in that moment, she knows exactly which of the two outcomes she’s going to get. She heads to the kitchen and Peter pauses to kick off his shoes before following her.

She gets back to her recipe and he lingers in the doorway and then comes in and sits at the island. “I guess getting here early means they’re not done yet” he says, and she nods.

“True, but you can help me with something. Want to?”

He nods his head, “uh, yeah – always.”

Her mind is spinning with ideas and quickly locks on one, “OK but you have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “I thought you wanted me to like, knead dough or something.”

“No, it’s a taste test.”

“Uh huh, I’m interested.”

“I’m going to add something to the crust, and I want to see if you like it – if you can tell what it is.”

“I already know I’ll like it Lara Jean, I love everything you bake.”

She tilts her head to the side and gives him a flirty look, “indulge me.” She likes the way his eyes darken right then and how he doesn’t say anything but obediently closes his eyes. Heading into the pantry she grabs shredded coconut and a second bowl and returns to the island. Peter is drumming his fingers on the counter and she scoops some of the dough she was working on into the smaller bowl and adds the coconut, and mixes it in. “Are your eyes still closed?” she asks as she glances up at him.

“Closed. I feel like whenever there’s a taste test on one of those competitive cooking shows, they have to wear a blindfold.”

She pauses her mixing and feels her heart in her throat, keeping her voice as steady as she possibly can she murmurs, “I can get one if you want” to her shock Peter nods and says in a voice so sexy she thinks she may pass out,

“I want.”

She is glad he cannot see her jaw drop open or how she clutches the counter edge like she may very well slither to the floor in an overload of hormones. “Stay here” she instructs, and he chuckles.

“You are bossy today.”

In the hall she tears through the baskets trying to find something that she can use, and her hand meets her favorite scarf – a sleek silk that Margot passed down to her. Returning to the kitchen she comes up behind Peter and whispers, “lean back” and his head lolls back to her and his eyes flutter open for just a second and then close again as she lays the fabric over them and he lifts his head, letting her knot the scarf.

She moves to his side and asks if he’s OK, if he can’t see and he nods and rubs his hands together, “I’m ready, bring on the taste test.” She has already completely forgotten the whole coconut crust ruse so she’s glad he can’t see her blush and she reaches for the two bowls and dips a spoon in each.

“OK, this is the first one” she announces, and he opens his mouth and she feeds him the dough and stares at his lips as he closes them and chews.

“Mmmmm it tastes great” he sighs, “do you want me to like describe it or something?” She shakes her head and then remembers he can’t see her.

“Does it remind you of anything?” She is just making it up as she goes at this point.

“Yeah, the first time I had your lemon bars, you brought them to my house for dessert and we ate them out on the screen porch when it was raining.”

She’d forgotten about that night because it was early on in their arrangement. But they’d sat on his porch swing and she’d been delighted at how much he liked her baking, how fun he was to spend time with and she liked his deep laugh and the affectionate way he teased her.

She takes the second spoon and hovers it at his lips and the way he’s trusting her is such a turn on, “this is the second one.”

He closes his mouth around the spoon and when she slides it back out between his pink lips there is no hiding the hiss of her breath expelling. He takes his time and chews slowly, swallows and wipes his tongue over his lips, “can I have more?”

The spoon falls out of her hand and clatters to the floor and she’s kissing him, her hands gripping at his shoulders as her body moves towards his, and just as quickly as that happens, his legs part to pull her between them and she’s pressed against him. Her arms go around his neck and his hands are everywhere – her hair, her back and hips and dipping towards her backside making her moan.

She opens her mouth and plunges her tongue at his and his wandering hands tighten at her waist and he stands and lifts her to put her down on the countertop and runs his hands over her thighs, urging her to wrap her legs around him. All that she’s been trying to communicate to him for these long months is pouring out of her in the way she’s kissing him, and scratching at his back – the hem of the scarf still covering his eyes reminding her this is all happening in darkness for him while for her it is in vivid screaming color.

“Peter” she breaks the kiss and he’s panting and lunging back towards her mouth for more, “I want you.” It’s so simple and pure and doesn’t need all the other words she’d been playing with in her head as she tried to design a way to tell him. “Do you want me?”

He moves back from her the slightest bit and murmurs, “let me see you” so she reaches up and tugs at the knot pulling the scarf off him. “There she is,” he smiles as he takes her in, “there’s my girl.”

She wrinkles her nose, “is that a yes?” and Peter blows out a laugh and kisses her again before nodding hard.

“Do I want you? God yes, more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Do you know how many times in my life I’ve left practice early? _Zero_. You kiss me once at lunch, and I can’t get off the field fast enough!”

She giggles and he does her face scrunch and she’s in so deep she may never get out again, and it’s fine, she doesn’t want to ever leave his arms. “Are we done faking?”

He kisses her hair and rests his forehead against hers, “c’mon Covey, were we ever faking, really?”

_If we don’t do this today, there goes a day  
Another moment that could’ve been ours_


	2. New Angel

_every second is about her  
every thought is wrapped around her_

He misses her first two calls because the party is so loud. The third one he answers, but he can’t hear her until he moves into the basement stairs where it’s slightly quieter. But the call drops once he’s behind the door and then he notices his screen is filled with a series of increasingly frantic texts from her:

 **10:22 Covey** _Hey I know you’re at Greg’s party but can you call me?_

 **10:37 Covey** _I don’t know how bad the storm is there, but it’s really windy at my house_

 **10:38 Covey** _SCARY WINDY. And it’s kind of freaking me out. Just call me when you get this_

 **10:53 Covey** _Did I mention I’m home alone tonight? And that the power is flickering???_

 **11:01 Covey** _I hate to be that annoying (fake) girlfriend who is really needy when you’re with your friends but I’m kinda terrified and if you could be a really cool (fake) boyfriend and just check in I can stop blowing up your phone and go hide under my bed ok bye_

He pushes his way through the party and out to the front of the house where a gust of wind almost knocks him off his feet. He tries calling and she answers but before he can even say anything she blurts out, “Peter! The power just went out!” in a tiny scared voice and then the line goes dead.

 **11:07** _I’m on my way Covey – you got any candles you can light??_

He runs towards the Jeep patting his pocket for his keys but when he gets in and has trouble finding the ignition he pauses and realizes he is probably too buzzed to be driving, especially on a stormy night where he can already see the wet street is littered with branches and debris.

Glancing back at Greg’s he tries to think of any friend who he could find who would be both sober and willing to leave the party to drive him to Lara Jean’s. His phone is dying so he can’t call an Uber. He does some mental math of where he is and how far her house is and rubs his face. “Fuck it” he mutters and opening the door he slides his keys and phone back into his pockets and starts jogging into the night.

* * *

“Covey, it’s me” he yells through the door. He’s been knocking for at least two minutes and he’s starting to get nervous something has happened to her. That she tripped over something in the dark and is lying on the floor bleeding or is too scared to even check the door. The wind is so loud she probably can’t hear so he bangs a few more times and the final time he almost falls into her house as she swings open the door.

“Whoa, hey – is that you?” he says as she pushes all her weight against the door to close it. “Are you OK?”

She’s holding a tiny flashlight and he can make out that she’s bobbing her head. “You weren’t kidding about the wind,” he says, “Jesus fuck…” and suddenly she’s thrown herself against him.

“Thank god you’re here. I _hate_ when the lights go out!”

He can hear it in her voice – her relief and fear in just those few words. He wraps his arms around her and hugs her close, “I’m sorry I took so long to reply. It was really loud in there I couldn’t hear my phone.”

She is shivering and he rubs her back and whispers into her hair, “Hey, it’s OK, Lara Jean.”

He feels her shake her head and pull back a little and he wants her to stay where she is, he likes feeling needed by her. He has been starting to enjoy her wanting to be near him more than he probably should given their arrangement. “Didn’t you notice how bad it was outside?”

“No, not with the music – and shouting – and uh – drinking.” He still has his hands on her back, and he presses them against her to urge her into him again but she doesn’t move. “I was gonna sleep over at Greg’s that’s why I had a few beers.”

“Why are you so out of breath?” she says then glances out the window. “And where is your car?”

He reluctantly takes his hands off her, “I didn’t drive here.”

“How…” she looks up at him and takes in his damp hair and red cheeks, “did you _run_ here?”

He nods, “I might have had a few beers and I may have realized that driving right now wasn’t a great idea.”

“Peter!” she gasps, “are you crazy? You ran here in this?” he assumes she’s gesturing outside but he can only see her pretty face from the flashlight glow.

“You needed me” he says simply, “and here I am.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t know what to say…it’s dangerous to be out in this unprotected. Thank you.”

“It’s safe in here” he leans his head down, “we’ll get some candles, eat cookies, tell ghost stories, it’ll be fun!”

“No!” she wails, “no ghost stories!”

“Fine, no ghost stories,” he reaches out his hand, “cookies are non-negotiable though. I _did_ just risk life and limb for you.”

He smiles in the dark as she slips her hand in his and tilts the flashlight towards the kitchen, “cookies are right this way my hero.”

* * *

After they collect candles and she grabs cookies they head to the living room. They move around each other lighting candles and when they’re done the space has a warm and rosy glow.

“It’s not just here, right?” she says, “the lights are out everywhere aren’t they?”

“Not where I came from but your street and the one over are pitch black.”

“So there’s not like a madman outside who cut the power to my house so he can murder me?”

He grins at her, “the only madman is the one you let _in_ the house” he raises his eyebrows and tries to make a spooky face at her, but she just shoots him down.

“Yeah, OK Peter.”

She surprises him by sitting on the floor, so he sits down next to her with their backs against the sofa. “For the record if there was a psycho killer recently escaped from prison out there, I could totally take him.”

“Uh huh” she murmurs as she reaches forward and takes two cookies from the plate on the coffee table and hands him one.

“You don’t sound convinced, Covey.” He bites the cookie and moans his approval.

“If our options are ghost stories or joking about murderers lurking outside in the bushes, can we go back to ghosts?” she says.

He knocks his shoulder against hers, “right, sorry. I will stop talking about scary things. I am here to distract you not torment you.”

“Thank you! So, how was the party?”

He shrugs, “it was a party. You didn’t miss anything.”

“You don’t mind that I skipped it?”

“Nah. I mean, do you mind that you skipped it? If you’d come you would have been with me and not here all alone during a blackout.”

“That…” she sighs, “is a very good point.” She picks up two more cookies and gives another to him. “Remind me of that next time you ask me to a party and I say no.”

“Oh, I will. I love when you’re my arm candy!” She’s the one who nudges his shoulder this time and he grins to himself.

* * *

“…and as much as I love Margot and look up to her – I also live in fear of disappointing her or letting her see how often I don’t actually know what the hell I’m even doing.”

They’ve been talking for awhile and the rain seems to have slowed but the wind is still wailing around the house. He loves how much she tells him about herself – how open she is and in turn, it makes him feel like he can tell her things too. Things he doesn’t talk about with anyone else.

“I kinda get that” he says, “with my dad absent I work really hard to do all these things for my mom so it doesn’t all fall on her. Sometimes I just want to be a teenager and be selfish and do only what I want. But then I think of how hard she has to work and keep the house up and take care of my brother and I just don’t want to make things worse for her than they already are.”

They are sitting facing one another now, still on the floor and she looks right at him in that way that unnerves him sometimes – how softly penetrating it is – like she sees right into him – the light and the dark and doesn’t mind what she sees. “You’re a really good son” she says quietly, “I know how much you do for your family. I know your mom appreciates it.” She gives him a smile that makes his heart pound, “you’re a pretty great guy all around, Peter. What you did tonight – leaving a party and running through a storm just to calm down some girl who won’t even let you kiss her – not many high school guys would do that.”

He keeps his eyes locked on hers as he speaks, “you’re not just some girl, Lara Jean.” He’s been resting back on his hands, but he sits up and even in the glow of the candlelight he can see her cheeks are pink and her eyes are wide. “Do you ever think…” he starts to say.

“Do I ever think what?” she’s leaned forward just the slightest bit.

“Do you ever think we’re not faking?” He lowers his eyes and then looks back at her and a definite spark runs between them in that moment and he shifts himself closer and reaches a hand slowly towards her, just lightly pushing a strand of her hair back over her shoulder and he can see the way her breathing has changed, the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“Do you?” she whispers as he brushes his fingertips just over the shell of her ear and down along her throat, watching how she swallows hard under his touch.

He wets his lips, “tell me it’s fake and I won’t do this…” he cups her jaw and moves his face just in front of hers, “3…” he gives her a countdown to allow her to stop it and hopes she doesn’t, “2…” her tongue darts along her own lips and they glisten for him, “1.” He presses his lips against hers light and gentle as his other hand comes up to hold her face. She pauses for only a split second before she kisses him back, just as light at first but then with more pressure and then friction.

Emboldened by her response he pulls away just enough to feel a thrill when she follows him, like she wants more. “Tell me to stop” he whispers and hovers over her lips, but she says nothing, so he kisses her again, this time he’s much less tentative and her hands come up to wrap around his wrists to keep him cradling her face. He smiles into the kiss and presses harder and she emits a quiet little moan, so he teases a little, drags his lips over hers and lets his tongue trace where she parts them.

“Tell me to stop” he repeats but she is silent except to part her lips and he follows her lead and dips his tongue into the warm little pool of her mouth and she moans again, this time with more urgency and then their tongues meet and he is completely enthralled with the intense intimacy of it – the realization that he is the first person who has ever kissed her like this pushes him on to make it as pleasurable as possible so she’ll let him do it again.

His hands have slipped up into her hair and hers have fallen to flex against his neck and he breaks the kiss again and places a kiss on one corner of her mouth, “tell me to stop” he murmurs as he passes over her lips to place another kiss at the other corner. This time she shakes her head just slightly and he gently tugs her hair to drop her head back and her fingers dig into him as he starts to leave open mouthed kisses along her jaw line and up to her ear, then back down to dip his tongue into the hollow of her throat, his fingertips gently scratching into her scalp as he tastes her pulse against the flat of his tongue.

When he works his way up to her other ear, he nuzzles her for a bit, breathing her in and letting her feel his own warm breath coating her skin. “Tell me to stop” drizzles into her ear and this time she lets out a low throaty purr that gets him so hard he can’t help himself from giving her earlobe a little bite.

He slips his hand down to where the zipper lays just under her collarbone. He fiddles with it while he keeps kissing her neck and moving back to her mouth. Before he moves it a single tooth he says it again, “tell me to stop” and her response is to arch her back so his knuckles graze between her breasts and he hisses out a breath and gives one short tug so the hoodie is half unzipped and the only barrier between his hand and her skin is a thin cotton tank top. Lara Jean starts panting a little and he understands she’s not going to tell him to stop, but he’s going to keep asking her because it is getting them both so turned on.

His mouth travels lower and he pushes the fabric off her shoulder a bit and skims his tongue over her collarbone, gives her flesh a teasing bite. “Tell…me…” he presses a hand into her lower back as her head lolls back on its own and she grips his shoulders, “…to… stop.” She shakes her head harder this time and of her own accord reclines until she’s laying back on the rug. He makes a groan of appreciation and brings his hands around to finish unzipping the hoodie and pushing the sides of it back. Her stomach is rising and falling quickly with her breathing and she rises enough to tug it off and push it away.

He moves in closer and lays on his side next to her and she turns her face and kisses him deeply as she twists his shirt into her fist. “Tell me to stop.” But she places his hand on her stomach and he shakes his head in pleased disbelief and smooths his palm against her, his fingertips teasing the curve of her breasts and she starts making the hottest little hiccup moans, tiny whimpers of “ _uh…uh..._ ” and he quickly goes higher and wraps his hand around her full breast and they both cry out at the same time.

He takes a nipple between his thumb and first two fingers and just massages it – letting her get used to the sensation, wanting her to lead him to how much more she wants. He holds his instincts in check, and she thrusts her chest against his touch and he reciprocates by giving a fuller squeeze and she kisses him hard.

She is grasping at him and he realizes she wants his shirt off and sitting up quickly he reaches back to pull it off and toss it on the couch as her hands move against his bare skin like she can’t get enough of him. He throws a leg over hers to straddle above her and grins down at her. “Tell me to stop” he drawls and she sits up and takes her tank all the way off. Her eyes meet his when she’s bare chested as she shyly keeps her arm over her chest, and he groans with unbridled pleasure.

“I’m not going to say stop” she whispers as they nuzzle at each other’s mouths without kissing and it is possibly the most erotic thing he’s ever experienced. “I should though…because...”

“Because?” he asks, his voice thick and hazy.

She sighs and gives him a slow kiss, “Because I’m not your girlfriend…your real girlfriend.”

He chuckles and kisses her forehead, “a boyfriend ditches his friends to race through a dangerous storm to be with his girl because she’s scared. A boyfriend touches you the way I’m touching you – kisses you the way I’m kissing you. And only a girlfriend would be this vulnerable – this half naked” he glances down lustfully at her, “with me.”

She wraps an arm around his neck and with the other she takes his hand and weaves their fingers together, “does that mean I’m your girlfriend now?”

“Mmmm, Covey” he kisses her, “I think the only faking either of us have been doing is that any of this wasn’t a real relationship.”

She smiles and starts to pull him back down to the floor, but he shakes his head and brings her back up and guides her to the couch. “We’ve accelerated our relationship to the part where we fool around on the couch and hope your dad won’t catch us” he jokes as he presses her back into the cushions and moves the throw pillows around for her head.

“Peter”

“Hmmm” he rests down carefully over her and brushes hair from around her beautiful face.

“He’s on call tonight. He’s not home until after noon.”

His eyes sparkle, “huh. I’m supposed to be at Greg’s all night.”

Reaching her arms around his waist she echoes, “huh” before giving him a sweet smile. “So what happens now?” her shy tone belies the very sexy way she’s wrapped around him with absolutely nothing covering her top half.

They kiss and cuddle, whisper, giggle and doze as the candles burn down to waxy pools and the wind outside stills as the house becomes silent and while the night has ended, they’ve just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like all writers I crave feedback! Please share in the comments if you have any and thank you for reading!
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr! Hit up my inbox!](https://queenie-004.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much for the warm welcome back! I have quite a backlog (including a sequel I think the core group of you will be _very,_ excited for) so subscribe or stay tuned this summer and I'll keep you well fed 😉😘 -- Q
> 
> Title: Adore You / Harry Styles (2019)
> 
> Chapter 1 title: I Got You / Amy Shark (2018)
> 
> Chapter 2 title: New Angel / Niall Horan (2020)


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